


Lyin' Eyes

by convolutedConcussion



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, What Are You Deputy Marshall Dolls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 07:32:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7258306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/convolutedConcussion/pseuds/convolutedConcussion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>or, The One With Dolls And His Freaky Lizard Eyes</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lyin' Eyes

It’s actually been days since they get a minute to breathe—maybe a week—and by that time they’re both too exhausted to do anything but crash into Dolls’ bed, still fully dressed and having _only just_ thought to kick off their shoes.  It’s still bright out when they fall asleep, haphazardly tossed together.  Wynonna’s the first to wake up, disoriented for a moment before everything comes back to her.  She hadn’t even dreamt.  The clock on the nightstand reads 3:13 AM, but she has to stare at it for a long time to comprehend why that’s relevant.  It takes some creative tugging to untangle herself from the blankets, and she bangs her ankle on the side of the bed on her way out.  Dolls doesn’t stir when she breathes a half-dozen nonsense curses, so she’s probably okay.

In the gloom, she manages to get to the door with minimal awkward arm-waving.

As she makes her way into the bathroom, she stretches and her back pops.  After dealing with more pressing matters, she digs around for the spare toothbrush she _knows_ he’s gotta have and hisses a quick, “Yes,” when she finds it.

It’s really the small things in life.

She thinks _really hard_ about getting back into bed but now she’s _up_ and can’t imagine he’d be thrilled to if she woke him up.  She lets herself instead fall bonelessly into the couch instead and flicks through channels on the TV until she lands on a bad alien movie.  It’s almost over when the bedroom door whines open, and she twists to watch Dolls stumble out, sleep-rumpled and scrubbing his face.

“Hey,” she says softly.

He mumbles something she can’t make out as he disappears into the bathroom, and she smiles privately because she’s never _seen_ him like this and it’s such a little thing to be so pleased about.  When he comes back into the living room, he looks slightly more conscious and leans over her to peck her lips.  It’s still such a new thing that it sends a thrill through her and she pushes up to follow him as he pulls back.  “Morning,” he hums warmly.  “But coffee first.”

“You started the kissing,” she squawks.

He just shrugs as he walks away.

With an exaggerated groan, she heaves herself off the couch and follows him into the kitchen.  She leans against the doorframe while he makes coffee, mostly just amazed that he seems to be able to do it with his eyes mostly closed.  Once he’s got it brewing, he turns to lean back against the counter and waves her over, and she certainly _wants_ to crack a joke about it, but she goes and lets herself be pulled in against his chest.

When she feels his head rest on top of hers, she can’t hold back, “I can’t _believe_ you’re a cuddler.”

“You just can’t let it be,” he chuckles into her hair.

This should be weird—she’s pretty sure it should be weird, but it also feels pretty awesome and, after the last, like, _week_ , she’s not willing to give up awesome just yet.  Too soon, though, she can hear that the coffee’s done and pulls away slowly.  After fixing their cups, they prop themselves up across one another in the narrow kitchen, sipping quietly.  That, at least, is pretty weird.  She sets her mug to the side after draining it and listens to explosions and screaming on the TV. 

He’s on her before she sees him moving, and she turns into his lips, slow and gentle at first but quickly grows heated, hard, and she holds him firmly against her with hands firmly splayed on his shoulder blades.  She can feel his moan all through her when she deepens the kiss hungrily.

When he lifts her onto the counter, she whispers, “Christ, that’s hot,” before diving back in.  He smiles into her skin when he attacks her neck, leaves her tingling where his stubble scraped against her.  “So glad to see you’re feeling more awake,” she gasps.  Pulling back, he huffs a quick breath, but when she opens her eyes all she can say is, “Whoa.”

‘Cause his eyes are sorta… weird.  His expression goes quickly from confused to alarmed as he yanks away. 

“Fuck,” he whispers as he peers at his reflection in the microwave door.

Which is, she thinks, kind of a weird response to freaky lizard eyes, but okay.

He looks at her again, looking a little like he’s gonna bolt, before he nods, once, and hurries out the door—not even shutting it behind him.  Sliding off the counter, Wynonna crosses her arms and paces back into the living room.  He pushes back inside holding a super mysterious black case that does nothing to reassure her.  They lock eyes for a moment, she finds herself searching for something in there and it’s _him_ —just a little different.  When she quirks her brow, he looks down at the case.

“Couple years ago, there was a program to see if what made different creatures _strong_ could be isolated without any of the nastier side-effects—like spontaneously combusting once the sun’s up—”

“Vampires are real?” she interrupts.

He stops, gives her a quick look.  “Among other things,” he says.  “Anyway, it didn’t really get too far off the ground, but far enough to reach human trials.”  Pausing, he clears his throat and sets the case gingerly on the coffee table, takes an uneasy seat on the couch.  “There were side-effects.”

“So, your life is a bad Syfy movie?” she prompts, shooting for funny.

His head dips and she can see the way the corner of his mouth just barely lifts.  “Something like that,” he responds.  “This,” he murmurs, opening the case and holding up a gun with—wow that’s, okay that’s a big needle.  A shudder runs over Wynonna’s spine.  “This keeps those side-effects at bay.”

There’s something he’s not saying.

Instead of asking after it, she sits next to him.  “So, are you human?”  She keeps her voice soft, cautious.

“Mostly,” he answers.  He snatches up a vial that looks, for all intents and purposes, like something out of a video game and loads it.  She doesn’t watch him inject himself, but she can hear his whispered countdown and looks over after the gun is on the table.  His eyes glow for another moment, but then they fade and go back to normal.

Biting her lip, she nods slowly.  “Okay,” she says simply.

“Okay?” he presses, looking suspicious.

“Um, yeah,” she frowns.  She pushes her fingers through her hair and lets out a sigh.  “Yeah, okay.  I mean, I’m still a little pissed that you didn’t tell me, but there’s also no real segue in to that,” she explains.  “I could still be in shock, though.  I’ll keep you posted.”

“Uh-huh,” he grunts.  “That’s uncharacteristically understanding.”

“Yeah that’s probably shock,” she laughs.  After a pause, she nudges into his side, rests her chin on his shoulder, whispers, “Hey.”

“Yes?” he asks a little sweetly.

“Kiss me,” she demands with a smile.

His fingers brush over her jaw as she reels him in with a fist in his shirt.  Their mouths crash together, and she sighs happily into it, slipping her palm over his shoulder and allowing herself to be pulled into his lap.  She presses him back, settles firmly against his chest, only breaks away to breathe and ask, “Is it weird the eyes kinda did it for me?”

He doesn’t respond, digging a pinch into her hip and arching up to catch her lips again.

**Author's Note:**

> Wynonna Earp owns my ass, guys. What the hell.
> 
> Swing by my [Tumblr](http://johnisntevendead.tumblr.com) where I frequently beg for attention while writing fic. And working. You know what, I'm always begging for it.


End file.
